


Rum and Coke

by CovalentBond



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Gavin is small, Hank has a big dick, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2019-11-04 05:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CovalentBond/pseuds/CovalentBond
Summary: Hank is a horny drunk and wants to stick his dick in Gavin, who is only being a good friend and helping him get home. Hank ties him to his bed and dicks Gavin to Hell and back, because Hank is a man who always gets what he wants.Too bad no one warned Gavin about Hank's cock that's the size of his fucking forearm.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tagged as Dubcon since Hank is drunk and is quite insistent on having sex. There are also times where Hank doesn't respect Gavin's limits and pushes a bit too far. 
> 
> \---
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

Gavin doesn’t really remember how he got here—the back of his knees hitting the side of Hank’s mattress and falling onto the surprisingly soft bed with a thump. There’s not enough time to think. Hank is everywhere, touching him, kissing him, and his knees nudge up against Gavin’s crotch and he lets out an embarrassing sound.

 

Gavin vaguely remembers drinking with Hank at the bar, and offering to drive the man home when his speech became slurred and was spending more time leaning against Gavin than actually sitting up. Gavin only had two drinks—he has been on a health binge recently after being scolded by Connor for the nth time, but now is not the time to think about Connor. Because Hank—whom is appropriately Connor’s father figure at this point—wraps his hands around Gavin’s waist and pulls him down, onto the older man’s knee.

 

Hank’s hands practically wrap around the circumference of Gavin’s waist. Gavin’s always known that Hank is a big man. Hell, he made Connor, who has a good few inches on Gavin, look like a toddler standing next to him. The Lieutenant has always had an aura to him—the confidant stance, the slight swagger when he walked, and _holy fuck_ the strength of a fucking bear.

 

Gavin throws his head back and whines as Hank rubs his beard down the side of his neck, leaving a wet trail of saliva. Hank tightens his grab on Gavin’s waist and lifts him up onto his lap, and the smaller man scrambles to latch onto his shoulders.

 

Hank is kissing him, deep and wet. Gavin can taste the sharp alcoholic tang from his tongue, which pulls him out of this fog long enough to pull away and gasp.

 

“W-wait,” Gavin futilely pushes against Hank’s broad shoulders. God, he is _so big_. “You’re drunk, Hank.”

 

“C’mon, you weren’t complaining before,” Hank says into Gavin’s neck, surprisingly coherent for someone who could barely stand up thirty minutes ago.

 

“I’m not saying I don’t want this,” Gavin tries to grab onto the older man’s wrists. Hank stops moving his hands, but they say firmly planted on Gavin’s back and side, so hot that it feels like it’s going to burn a hole through his body. “But you’re too drunk.”

 

“I’d want you even when I’m sober, Gavin.”

 

“Then let’s do this when you’re sober.”

 

Gavin moves to get up, but Hank tightens his arms and Gavin slides even further down. The hard outline of Hank’s cock pushes against his ass. _Jesus fuck, it feels like a fucking log._

 

“I’m a grown ass man, you don’t have to coddle me.” Hank is reaching to yank off Gavin’s shirt.

 

“I’m not—” Hank pulls Gavin’s shirt over his head, effectively muffling whatever he had to say. Gavin wiggles and frees his head from the tangle of his shirt, and is immediately overwhelmed by Hank as he lurches forward with an open mouthed kiss. Hank lowers the smaller man down onto the bed, still keeping his wrists wrapped up by his own shirt.

 

“I’m gonna fuck you tonight, do you have any objections?” Hank pulls back and asks. Gavin gasps to catch his breath, chest heaving against Hank’s palm. Dark, blown-out pupils stare back at him; there is something dark and violent in those eyes, and Gavin gulps, then shakes his head.

 

“No,” his voice is a whisper.

 

“Good.”

 

And that is all Hank said before he’s pulling at Gavin’s jeans. Gavin raises his hips and lets Hank pull his pants off along with his boxers. He wiggles his wrists—still held in a tight grip above his head—and they don’t budge. Hank is busy stripping Gavin of every piece of his clothing, not even paying attention to the other man’s attempts to free himself.

 

 _He doesn’t even have to try,_ Gavin gulps. Something inside him stirs, he doesn’t know if it’s arousal anymore. He is laying naked and bound, essentially immobile, while Hank doesn’t even break a sweat. It’s a good thing they both have the weekend off, because Gavin doesn’t think he’s going to be able to walk straight tomorrow.

 

Hank is fumbling one-handed at his own belt and manages to take it off after a few tries. Gavin lets his legs wrap around the older man, toes kicking at his jeans. Hank swats the offending leg away and kicks his jeans off. Gavin peeks at what Hank is packing down there, now that there is only a thin layer separating him and his cock. And _holy fuck_ , it is a very proportionally sized dick.

 

Hank catches Gavin’s gaze, and pulls down his boxers, letting his hard, weeping cock spring out. He strokes himself a few times, slowly, and Gavin can’t help but notice that not even Hank’s ginormous hand can wrap around it comfortably. _It is fucking massive._

 

“I don’t think that’s gonna fit in me,” Gavin lets out a nervous chuckle.

 

“Have some faith, kiddo,” Hank shuffles up the bed, and guides the smaller man’s legs around him.

 

Hank slaps his cock against Gavin’s stomach. And Gavin has never been a self conscious guy, he’s got a relatively average dick, but now that its laying next to that giant beer can of a cock, Gavin suddenly feels small in a way he’s never felt before. _Fragile._ Like Hank could probably break him with his dick. Which he probably could, Gavin’s mind supplies.

 

 “Fuck, you’re so small,” Hank murmurs as he grabs both of their dicks in one hand. He pushes the length of his dick alongside Gavin’s stomach. The tip ends at Gavin’s belly button, and his heart flutters again. “You’re gonna feel me in your throat.”

 

Gavin instinctively closes his legs. He lets out a small whimper when Hank’s cock throbs between his thighs. _It feels like a fucking baseball bat._ Hank lets his cock slap against the smaller man’s stomach a few times, smearing precum across the smooth, tanned abs. Gavin feels his own cock twitch in response; he wishes he could see what the two of them look like right now. Hank with his shirt still on—albeit with the first few buttons popped open—his pupils blown wide open and hungry, and his boxers pull down just enough to free his cock. Gavin, naked as the day he was born, with his wrist bound above his head by his own shirt, writhing on Hank’s lap.

 

Gavin is lulled back into reality by the sound of a cap popping open. Sometime during his day dream, Hank had produced a bottle of lube from somewhere. He vaguely recalls the older man combing through the sheets for something.

 

“You just have lube laying around on your bed?”

 

“You complaining?”

 

“No, I’m just judging.”

 

Gavin gets a sharp pinch on his ass for that. He hisses through his teeth and glares.

 

“I can skip the lube if you want,” Hank makes a motion to throw away the bottle.

 

“You won’t,” Gavin narrows his eyes. It’s not that he thinks Hank would fuck him dry, it’s just that he doesn’t trust Hank to know when to stop.

 

“You’re right,” Hank huffs. “You’re so small I think I might skin my dick if I went in dry.”

 

“Wow, that would be a fucking tragedy— _ah!_ ” Gavin yelps when Hank drips cold lube on his stomach.

 

“Sorry,” Hank says without an ounce of remorse.

 

Gavin’s retort is cut off with a gasp when Hank trails a finger down and rubs against his hole. He wiggles harder against the hold on his wrists.

 

“I need my hands,” he whimpers against Hank pressing lube into him.

 

“No, you don’t,” Hank replies, and loosens his grip for a brief moment before yanking the tangle of shirt and wrists against a bed post. Gavin glances up and sees Hank tie some intricate, boy scout knot with the fabric. He wiggles and is not surprised to find that he isn’t able to move a bit. Hank hasn’t even spared a moment of thought before lubing up his fingers again.

 

“Open up,” Hank lifts Gavin’s left leg and folds it against the smaller man’s chest, giving him the perfect view of Gavin’s tight, pink hole. Gavin whimpers as Hank’s fingers dig into his thighs; he’s definitely gonna have bruises tomorrow.

 

Hank carefully breaches one finger and Gavin turns to muffle his cry into his shoulder. Hank keeps pushing deeper and deeper, until the second knuckle.

 

“Oh god,” Gavin whimpers.

 

“You good?”

 

“Feels big,” he whines as Hank starts to pump the single digit.

 

“Wait ‘till you feel my dick.”

 

“Not funny,” Gavin squirms and laughs, which turns into a broken cry as Hank dives deeper with his finger.

 

The next time Hank pulls back, his finger pops out with a wet _phlop._ Gavin forces himself to relax when he feels two blunt fingers nudging against his hole. He digs his heel into the bed as Hank squeezes two fingers in. Hank twists his fingers roughly and Gavin lets out a sharp gasp.

 

Gavin closes his eyes and tries to focus on Hank—the feel of the older man’s shirt against his legs, the harsh grip of his hand around his thigh, almost wrapping around the entire circumference, and the faint smell of smoke and _Hank_ on the blankets, the pillows, the air. Gavin feels his eyes water, either from the sting of the third finger being added, or from the overwhelming feeling of _Hank._ He is surrounded by the older man—Hank’s on him, he’s all around him, he’s _inside_ him.

 

Gavin barely registers Hank talking to him—telling him he’s doing a good job and for him to relax. There is a buzz in his head, like he’s the one who’s had seventeen shots of run rum and coke. He can hear himself choking out whimpers and sobs, holding his breath to stop the noises from coming out. There is a sharp jab of pain up his spine with every thrust of Hank’s fingers, and Gavin squirms against it, twitching away only to be held back down every time.

 

“Breath,” Hank growls, and curls his fingers. Gavin jolts up the bed and screams. Hank keeps pressing against that bundle of nerves, not letting up, and Gavin is babbling against the pain and the sharp and intense pleasure—everything is too overwhelming.

 

Gavin’s thigh slips from Hank’s grasp, who starts pistoling his fingers in and out, letting the smaller man to writhe away, drawing his knees up and pushing Hank away.

 

“Too much, too much,” Gavin manages to slur out, knees pushing weakly against the older man’s chest. He lets out a shaky breath when Hank stills his fingers, still buried deep up to the third knuckle. The stretch of the three fingers still stings, and Gavin tries to relax around the intrusion; he feels his walls twitching and seizing, trying to accommodate fingers the size of fucking sausages.

 

“You really are too small,” Hank lets his thumb run across the puffy, red rim before slowly sliding his fingers out. The smaller man lets out a whole-body shiver and sags into the bed with a broken sob.

 

“I can’t feel my arms,” Gavin says between deep breaths, pulling weakly at the knot above his head. Hank wipes his fingers across Gavin’s chest—“ew, Hank”—and reaches over to untie the knot. He wiggles the tangle of fabric until its loose, and lets Gavin flex his fingers before tangling them with his own. Gavin takes his free hand and reaches down for Hank’s cock, still hard and hot after the fingering session.

 

Hank leans down for a kiss, moaning against the younger man’s mouth. Gavin’s stroking Hank’s cock, twisting his wrist as he moves up. He feels Hank’s much larger hands wrap around his own, guiding him into a slower and tighter stroke.

 

“Are you ready?” Hank growls inches from Gavin face, eyes dark and shining with desire. The last remaining cloudiness from the drinks has left him, and he looks as sober as Gavin feels.

 

“Yes,” Gavin says, too loud. He winces at his own voice, shaky and uncertain. Either Hank doesn’t pick up on it, or he simply doesn’t care. For that Gavin is grateful—he’s already so vulnerable, so _exposed._ He wants to keep the last bit of uneasiness to himself.

 

“Let me help,” Gavin holds out his hand. Hank pops open the bottle of lube and drips a good amount on Gavin’s palm, who sits up on his elbows and slaps his hand over Hank’s dick. Hank hisses at the cold, but lets out a deep moan when Gavin starts running up and down his dick, slathering as much lube as he can. He pours some more lube onto his hands, letting it drop down his arm to his elbow and onto his stomach. When Hank’s cock is as wet as it can get, Gavin reaches between his cheeks and lets the lube drip between his crack, making sure to make the entry as smooth as possible.

 

Hank grasps his hard cock, now dripping with lube, and runs it across Gavin’s hole. He gasps as the head catches his rim.

 

“Lay back,” Hank orders, and plants a hand firmly on his chest. Gavin tilts his head down and sees Hank giving his cock one last stroke before lining up. He gasps again when the blunt head slides over his rim, and presses forward.

 

“Relax,” Hank’s hands are anchoring him down, gripping his waist. Gavin tries to spread his legs open, but the pressure against his hole does not let up. His hands are gripping the sheets and a long whine escapes from his throat.

 

The head pops in, eliciting a sharp cry from Gavin, who grabs at the older man’s wrists, trying to push away from the pressure.

 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Hank rumbles, barely keeping himself from ramming the rest in. His dick twitches from the sounds coming out of Gavin’s mouth, the little gasps of breaths, the whimpers from deep inside his throat as he tries his best to adjust.

 

“Y-you’re so big,” Gavin replies breathlessly, and throws his head back with a sob, arching his spine as Hank gives a little thrust.  

 

 Hank is giving little thrusts, undulating back and forth ever so slightly, keeping his hold firm and tight on the smaller man’s waist, pulling him back onto his cock every time he arched away. “You’re doing good,” he’s whispering sweet encouragements to Gavin, whose gasps and sobs are bordering with tears.

 

“I can’t— _ah!_ ” Gavin breaks off into a sob as a particular thrust slides too deep, too fast. He paws at Hank’s iron grip, trying to push away.

 

Hank takes pity and stills his movement. His dick is barely halfway in, but the younger man’s cries have gone from pain-pleasure to just pain, and he doesn’t want to actually hurt him—as tempting as that is. But the sight of his thick cock squeezing in and out of Gavin’s small, lithe body, the fluttering of the muscles around his cock as the smaller man tries to relax his muscles, the delicious whimpers as his body alternates between pain and pleasure—Hank closes his eyes and groans, he doesn’t want to come yet.

 

“Can you not go any deeper?” Gavin hisses out between clenched teeth, face still scrunched with pain.

 

“I’ll try,” Hank says as he resumes thrusting, this time more slowly. He watches as Gavin’s face relax when he pulls his cock out almost to the tip, and slowly sinks it back in. He pushes until Gavin’s face twist with a pained gasp—he’s reached the limit, and he pulls back again, letting out a low moan as his cock is freed from the vice-like grip.

 

Hank sets a slow pace, soaking in every sound from Gavin’s mouth as he impales him over and over again with the first few inches of his cock. The hot, tight warmth of the smaller man’s body is addicting, probably the most addicting feeling he’s had in his entire life. Hank wants to ruin him; he wants to fuck him so hard no one else will ever compare. He’s going to take his time with him, work him up slowly, inch by inch, until he can take the length of his cock.

 

Gavin’s cries are getting louder as Hank picks up his pace. His thrusts are getting harder, and Gavin feels like he’s getting sucker punched in the stomach with every push. Hank’s cock is so thick that every push and pull is pressing down on that bundle of nerves, and he’s screaming against the unrelenting pleasure that is building up alongside the pain.

 

He’s sobbing Hank’s name over and over again. He pushes away, only to push back again to chase the white hot pleasure as Hank’s cock drags over that spot inside him. He doesn’t know what he wants, but it seems that Hank does, because the older man spits in his hand and grabs his dick, still half hard despite the pain. Then Gavin is coming—Hank lets out a choked moan as Gavin clenches down on his dick, squirming and shaking through his orgasm.

 

Hank slides his still hard cock out from Gavin, who gasps and sobs from the oversensitivity. Gavin can almost feel his insides rearranging themselves back into their original place, and he curls up protectively around his stomach, hands pushing on his navel, trying to sooth away the deep ache.

 

“You okay?” Hank runs a calloused hand down Gavin’s back.

 

“Yeah,” he replies weakly.

 

“Good, ‘cuz I’m not done with you yet.”

 

\---

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since y'all wanted a part 2. Enjoy.

It takes Gavin a few seconds to register what Hank had said, and he lets out a weak chuckle. He tilts his head and looks at Hank, whose eyes are still dark, hovering over him.

 

“Seriously?” 

 

“What do you mean _seriously_? I didn’t even cum yet.”

 

Gavin splutters, but doesn’t find himself protesting when Hank drags him down by his legs.

 

“I can’t—I’ll blow you,” Gavin flips himself over, propping himself up by his elbows and looking up at Hank, who is languidly stroking his cock, still hard and purple.

 

“Maybe next time.”  

 

“Next ti—” Gavin stutters as he’s flipped back onto his face. “Who said there’s gonna be a _next time_?”

 

“Of course there’s gonna be a next time. I was barely halfway in.”

 

Calloused, rough hands brush down his back, and Gavin shivers slightly when they trail off, leaving only the faintest hints of warmth. He arches his back up until Hank’s palms settle nicely on the dimples above his ass.

 

“I’m not really a huge fan of being skewered by a fucking baseball bat,” Gavin goes for a deadpan reply, but it comes out breathless and soft against the soft bed and the deep ache throughout his body. Hank had resumed the light caresses across Gavin’s thighs and back, and he squirms against the feeling and shivers when Hank curls his hands, running his nails down Gavin’s lower back.

 

“Hmm,” Hank says absentmindedly, instead focusing on the goosebumps appearing on the smaller man’s back, now that they’re no longer pressed together. Hank lets his hands wander down, and cups Gavin’s round cheeks. He spreads them and lets out a groan at the sight of the puffy, red pucker.

 

Gavin hisses against the sudden cold. “Fuck, more lube.” He props himself up on his elbows and looks back, resigning himself to the fact that Hank is not coming without his dick inside him.

 

Hank reaches for the bottle and dribbles lube down his cock, letting the excess drip down onto Gavin’s asshole. Gavin—who’s grabbed a pillow to hold onto—wiggles his hips, wincing at the ache that had resurfaced without Hank’s distracting touches.

 

“Lower your back a bit and push this up,” Hank pushes gently on Gavin’s tail bone, and with his other hand, hooks under his hips and raises them up. “It’ll be a better angle.”

 

Hank whistles at the sight, and Gavin feels his face heating up. There’s something about the feel of the older man’s gaze that makes his stomach flutter, that he wants to blame on the throbbing ache radiating from the lower half of his body. Gavin feels _wanted,_ and he sneaks a peak at Hank, whose pupils are blown so wide they look black, and sees the raw earning and hunger.

 

The moment breaks when Hank shuffles closer, creaking the bed. Gavin buries his face and whatever emotions bubbling up into his arms and shoves a pillow in his mouth. He shivers as Hank grips his hips with those hands, heat radiating off the older man in waves, and Gavin unconsciously squirms back to chase the warmth.

 

“Relax,” Hank’s hoarse voice breaks the silence, and that’s all the warning Gavin gets before the head is pushed in.  

 

 “Fuck! Warn a man, will you?” Gavin jerks away with a gasp, letting the tip slip out.

 

“I just did,” Hank yanks the smaller man back into position. “Now stay still.” Gavin’s retort is muffled by the pillow, but the dirty look he throws back tells Hank that the younger man did not appreciate his reply.

 

When Hank breaches him this time, Gavin only stills for a moment before he lets out a shaky breath. The sting is there, but not as bad as before, and with Hank rubbing his thumbs in his vice grip on his hips, Gavin forces himself to relax and unclench his body—from his teeth to his toes.

 

“Slowly,” Gavin hisses out when he feels Hank start to move.

 

“I’m barely in, Gavin,” Hank looks down at where they’re connected; Gavin looks impossibly small compared to his cock. It’s a wonder he even got the tip inside.

 

“Trust me, I _know,_ ” Gavin throws another dirty looks behind him.

 

Hank squeezes his hands and plunges deeper, ignoring the muffled _FUCK_ coming from underneath. He slides in much easier with this angle, and with his knees straddling the younger man, there is much less resistance. He goes slow—pushing in a bit more with every thrust, only pulling back when Gavin’s shoulders scrunch up and back arches away.

 

Gavin is prepared for the stretch this time, but the feeling of being so full and tense catches him off guard again. He arches when it slides in too much at once, but sobs when Hank tightens his grip, not giving any leeway for Gavin to escape. Hank locks him in his angle, and with every thrust Gavin screams into his pillow.

 

But in this angle, every squirm lets Hank in deeper, and Gavin is almost choking on how full he feels. There’s a dull ache at the base of his belly, where it feels like Hank is punching him with his cock. He knows he’s babbling into the pillow, and he hears—through the loud ringing in his ears—Hank groaning. He tries to relax and roll his hips back, trying to make Hank come faster, but he can barely think against the sharp slices of pain and pleasure. His hole is fluttering, oversensitive, and he’s trying so hard to gasp for air in between the sobs and gasps.

 

It feels like Hank is trying to shove his whole cock inside him, and Gavin grits his teeth and wills himself to relax, because while there is only so much his body can take, Hank is doing his best at punching a hole through his intestines and into his stomach.

 

Then, one particularly deep thrust breaches something deep inside, and the nauseating feeling hits Gavin in the back of his throat, and the next thing he knows, he’s crawling away, gagging against the knot in his throat.  

 

“Fuck,” Hank stills, cock still buried inches deep. He holds the convulsing man as much as possible, trying not to move too much, while Gavin shudders underneath.

 

“Okay, okay, okay, oh god, don’t move, please,” Gavin babbles when Hank pulls back a few inches, and his whole body relaxes once the round of nausea simmers down and the cock up his ass doesn’t feel like it’s about to pop out from his throat.

 

“You okay? Do you want me to pull out?” Hank asks, frowning. He’s never had a reaction quite like this from his past sexual experiences, but he’s also never slept with someone as small as Gavin. He really shouldn’t be feeling any sense of pride, but seeing the younger man shrugging as hard as he is trying to take his cock—it’s not even fully in—sends a shock of pleasure down his spine.  

 

The smaller man shakes his head in response and lets his head droop between his shoulders, breathing shakily and heavily. Hank thanks whatever deity that decided Gavin Reed should have a stubborn streak as big as his ego, because he is so close to coming, and there is practically nothing short of Fowler barging in and summoning him to work that will stop him from blowing his load into that tight ass.

 

“Holy fuck,” Gavin finally whimpers out, walls still spasming on Hank’s hard cock. “I think you lodged your fucking dick in my throat, you bastard.”

 

“You flatter me, Gavin. I’m not even fully in,” Hank tries not to let his genuine concern bleed through. Can’t be going soft just because someone can’t take dick.

 

“Oh god,” Gavin shifts forward on the bed, and slides the cock out a tad more. “You’re not putting that whole thing in me. I’m not crawling to work.”

 

“You have tomorrow off.” Hank gives a slight thrust.

 

“Imma need more than a day—oh _fuck,_ ” Gavin throws his head back in a groan.

 

And that is as good of a signal for Hank to keep going as he’s going to get, so he rolls his hips slowly, fucking in deep, long strokes that has the smaller man tearing at the sheets. Gavin is still squirming, hands twitching against the sheets, unsure of where to grip, and he lets out wet gasps with every stroke.

 

Hank adjusts his grip on Gavin’s hips and tilts them to a new angle and is rewarded with a scream a clench that whites out his vision for a brief second. He keeps the angle and goes deeper with every thrust; he closes his eyes and grunts as sharp jabs of pleasure shoot up his groin with every yelp and whimper coming from the writhing mess of a man underneath him.

 

Gavin’s openly sobbing now, choking on his own screams and spit, trying to breathe against the overwhelming feeling of— _everything._ Every nerve in his body is on fire; pain and pleasure crashes over him in waves. The stretch—and the feeling of fullness is so much, it’s all he can concentrate on. It’s like every fiber in his being is honed in on the fact that Hank’s freakishly huge cock is scraping his insides, pushing on his intestines in a way that is definitely _not_ healthy.

 

Finally, _finally,_ he feels Hank groan and still, cock pulsing deep inside him. And then Hank is pushing forward, impossibly deep—cock still pulsing and somehow _expanding._ “No, no,” Gavin sobs and crawls away, only to be dragged back by Hank’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him down, impaling him on the cock.

 

Hank sees stars behind his eyes when he comes, roaring. And when he finally comes to, his cock is still half hard, sliding out of Gavin’s hole as the smaller man attempts to push himself away.

 

“Fuck,” Hank slides the rest of his cock out, drawing a sharp hiss from Gavin. “You good?”

 

The only answer he gets is a soft sniffle and a hiccup from Gavin, who has all but collapsed on the bed, too tired to even move.

 

Hank lays down beside the half unconscious man, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him to his chest. He presses a soft kiss to the smaller man’s temple, nose pressed against his damp hair. Gavin turns his head and burrows into Hank’s chest in response and mumbles into his shoulder.

 

“Hm?” Hank asks, trying to catch his own breath, heart still pounding after his mind-blowing orgasm.

 

“I think you broke me,” Gavin mumbled a bit more clearly, sounding just as broken as he looks.

 

Hank chuckles, and tightens his hold on the smaller man, who squirms in response and lets out a soft gasp.

 

“Hurts?” Hank feels a stab of guilt, now that his brain is no longer impaired by a fog of horniness.

 

Hank feels a slight shake of his head against his chest, and relaxes into the mattress, pulling the smaller man flush against him. The room smells of sex and sweat, the sound of heavy breathing punctuated by the occasional hiccup and whimper as Gavin squirms against the intensifying ache throughout his body.

 

“My ass is leaking, Hank,” Gavin mumbles finally, after minutes of mutual silence, eyes sliding shut despite the trail of cum running down his thighs.

 

“I’ll grab us a towel,” Hank lets out a jaw breaking yawn, and adds, “later.”

 

The two promptly fell asleep, and Gavin woke up to half of his ass cheek stuck to the bed.

\----

 


End file.
